Have someone tend to your wound, Alearindu, ... perhaps Bethberry or Holly. For though you bear this minor cut bravely, 'twas deep enough to stain your shirt and seep through your bandage.
* Gandalf accepted the daggers from Alearindu with an appraising look, furrowing his brows and musing aloud as if to himself. *
Why, these weapons might be of Dunlending make, judging by workmanship of hilt and curvature of blade. You found them this morning, Alearindu, and our guest Mat Rushlight of Bree arrived only this past night. The trap hadn't yet been set when he'd come up the road from the Castle. We must be wary then. More wary, as it's been odd that we've had no further Orc raids on our encampments, since the first night out from Sarn Ford.
* Mat Rushlight had woken up and breakfasted ravenously on toast, blackberries, and sweet-spice tea. Having told his tale on stumbling into camp, he preferred to speak little now, though he greeted one and all with a calm "good morning" and thanked the company for its hospitality every now and then. At last he took off northwards on the Greenway, bearing the sword he'd been given. *
* The company took off southwards, and making good time, came within sight of Castle Maladil in middle afternoon. However, Gandalf steered the company away from the side-road to Laurëondo and bade them instead set up camp in a clearing off the main road, to await nightfall. As the sun's rays slanted towards evening but with still enough time to walk back before the evening meal, Gandalf asked Holly to bring her sketch pad and drawing instruments, to accompany him and map the outside boundaries of the Castle grounds. *
[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
|